


In-Laws

by mosymoseys



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Fate of the Jedi Series - Aaron Allston & Troy Denning & Christie Golden, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosymoseys/pseuds/mosymoseys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This doesn't make us in-laws, does it?" Luke and Wedge at Jaina's wedding. Lighthearted and just slightly silly. Spoilers through <i>Apocalypse</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Laws

The reception had been in full swing for almost two hours when Luke finally managed to extract himself from the dance floor.  He’d actually been fully prepared to retire to his seat after his last dance with Leia six or seven songs ago.  However Allana had latched herself onto him then, brimming with all the boundless energy only a nine-year-old girl could possess, and insisted on twirling about the dance floor with her favorite great uncle until Luke was nothing short of thoroughly exhausted.

If anyone asked, it was because his body was still recovering from his recent battle with Abeloth in the Lake of Apparitions.  At least that was his excuse anyway.  Deep down, Luke suspected he was just getting old.

Having now succeeded in foisting Allana off onto Ben, Luke at long last made his weary way across the reception hall, smiling politely at the various guests he passed, until he reached one of the abandoned corner tables and proceeded to collapse bonelessly into one of its chairs.  For moment, he just sat there, absolutely still, savoring the all-too-rare opportunity to simply _not move_.  On the other side of the hall, the band was starting into yet another song, and after a while Luke could feel his eyes starting to drift closed, lulled by the gentle strains of a Hapan waltz. 

When he opened them again an instant later, a fizzy drink had materialized before him and Wedge Antilles was sliding into the seat beside him, matching fizzy drink in hand. 

“So,” Wedge began as he unfastened the buttons on the collar of his general’s dress uniform, “rumor has it my nephew just married your niece.”  There was a subtle slur to his words to suggest that this wasn’t the first fizzy drink of Wedge’s night.  Probably not the second either.

Luke smiled.  “So I’ve heard,” he said and reached for the beverage Wedge had placed before him.  Taking a sip, he turned to face his old friend and found Wedge leaning towards him, studying Luke with a distinctly glassy-eyed intensity.  His face was contorted in concentration as though Luke was some puzzle he was trying to put together but he couldn’t quite hold on to all the pieces. 

Luke returned the gaze placidly, and after a moment, those puzzle pieces must have snapped into place because Wedge’s eyes widened almost comically and his aura in the Force began to broadcast the same sense of alarm that was rapidly spreading across his face.  Luke quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Yes?” he asked.

“ _Thisdoesn’tmakeusinlawsdoesit?_ ”

“I’m sorry?” Luke said, despite having understood his friend perfectly well.

“I said,” Wedge repeated, over-enunciating dramatically this time though his voice remained several octaves higher than normal, “this doesn’t make us in-laws, does it?”

It was with only considerable effort that Luke suppressed his smile.  Schooling his features into his patented Jedi Master mask of serenity, he settled back in his chair to meet Wedge’s increasingly wild-eyed expression with a level gaze.  “You know,” he said, theatrically stroking his chin with feigned contemplation, “I rather think it does.”

Wedge slumped in his chair at Luke’s response, crumpling in a way that reminded Luke of one of those old battledroids when its connection to its control ship had been lost.  “Ah kirff,” he cursed, taking a long swig of his drink, before finally just up-ending the rest of the glass into his mouth.  “I was afraid of that.” 

He stared forlornly at his now-empty glass before Luke took pity on him and passed him his own.  Wedge grinned at him.  “Thanks,” he said, “and it’s nothing personal, buddy, but I just don’t think I can handle being related to you.”  He reached out to pat Luke’s arm and on the third attempt, actually made contact.  “No offense, Luke, but your family’s crazy.”

Luke let his eyes narrow and his mouth fall open in his best approximation of shocked indignation even as he focused all his considerable willpower on staving off laughter.  “Not all of us,” he pointed out as evenly as he could manage though he was certain anyone even slightly more sober than Wedge would have been able to pick up the amusement bubbling just below the surface.

Wedge gave him a sidelong and profoundly skeptical look.  “Oh no,” he said with deep conviction.  “Most _definitely_ all of you.”

Luke couldn’t help it.  One corner of his mouth twitched up in a half-smile, and it was only a pair of incisors lodged in his lower lip that kept a full grin from emerging.  “Well in that case, I’ll be sure to tell Leia you said so,” he said mildly with a nod across the hall to where his sister stood conversing with Winter and Tycho.  

“Aha!”  Wedge’s exaltation drew the attention of a number of nearby guests, but Wedge ignored their quizzical stares in favor of folding his arms across his chest and smirking triumphantly at Luke.  Luke didn’t need to fake his expression of puzzlement.  Wedge just chortled at him.  “Don’t you see, Skywalker?” he said, leaning forward once again and wagging a finger at Luke for emphasis.  “The very fact that that’s even a threat just serves to prove my point.”

Luke threw his head back and laughed.


End file.
